Fic: How to use yourself (Thor)
Title: How to use yourself
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 1,250
Featuring: Loki
Genre: Angst
Warnings: None
Notes: Unbeta-ed. This was originally a fill I wrote for this norsekink prompt which was suprisingly well-received. So I've gone through the story again and gave it a little more substance and polish. Original (horrible and unedited draft) is here for those interested. Stealthily de-anoning here in my journal.
Last Edit: 21 Apr 2013
Prompt: So usually the citizans of Asgard are as free with their casual touch and affection as they are with food and drink and sport, but no one touches Loki if it can at all be avoided. (i dunno, maybe they subconciously recognize that he is something other?).
Loki, as desperate for affection as any other person, turns to his magic. He makes clones of everyone he loves and uses the clones to give him everything he's ever wanted from them; a hug, a kiss, a "well done!", cuddles, everything he's always been denied. (please no sexing of the clones).
Would prefer it to eventually be brought into the light what he's been doing, and the reactions of those he's cloned.
(Note. I haven't followed the prompt exactly, belated apologies to anon.)
In the beginning Loki didn’t realise what it was that he had been missing.
No.
That's not entirely true.
In the very beginning Loki didn't think he was missing anything at all.
.
Loki lived life, and he went through the motions of each day with devotion. While he found no enjoyment in competitions of physical prowess, he made his own fun with words and magic (and lies and deception), which earned him a title and reputation which he would occasionally carry with pride.
Though the fun was fleeting and his pleasure would always fade, those were facts which Loki did not mind as knew that he was capable of creating more. Though he never knew the feeling of constant happiness, it was the element of life he understood to be unavoidable, and Loki found reassurance in the knowledge that true happiness is rare.
He learned to be content, and he made sure it would be enough.
So when Loki watched Volstagg envelop Hogun in a giant hug, or Sif place an affectionate kiss on Thor's cheek, he never gave their actions a second thought. Such things were merely part of the Asgardian culture, and Loki never had the reason to think he was missing out on anything truly substantial.
If asked, Loki would reveal his knowledge that these declarations of affection were surely, truly both overrated and unnecessary, for even though it was something he had never been a part of, Loki was still perfectly happy, content with his life.
No, in the very beginning Loki didn't think he was missing anything at all.
.
Everything changed, however, on a chilly Autumn day.
On that day, Loki sat under a tree in a garden far far away from the palace, hidden in a quiet corner of Asgard. Head bent forward, Loki read from the book on his lap, engrossed in stories of ancient mysteries and unsolvable paradoxes.
The girl could not have known who he was, and similarly, Loki never did learn her identity.
Loki started as a pair of arms wrapped itself around his frame. Suddenly there was a small body pressing against his back, and a head resting on his shoulder. Strangely overwhelmed by the warmth pressed against him, for a long time Loki sat still, uncertain, before he turned his head to examine the intruder.
As Loki turned his head, the other moved away, and the trickster saw a young girl, staring at him with clear, eager eyes. She had tawny hair and a crooked grin, her expression open and happy.
The places where her body had touched his felt strangely cold.
"Why did you do that?" he asked, bewilderment clear in his tone.
The little girl shrugged simply. "You looked like you needed it."
Loki stared silently as the little girl turned and ran away, and when she was gone he bowed his head, and turned his attention back to the book. Yet for some reason he couldn't focus. His eyes were stinging, and his body trembled for reasons he was not entirely sure about.
There were voices coming from far away. It was probably time for him to leave.
Loki resisted the sudden urge to wrap his arms around himself, and walked home alone.
.
For a long time afterwards, Loki started to notice.
The way Volstagg would greet Hogun and Fandral with a wide, enveloping hug.
The way Odin would wrap his arm tenderly around Frigga's shoulders in the more private of moments.
The way Thor would chase and tackle Sif, picking her up and spinning her around and around until she squealed.
Loki noticed none of this ever happened to him.
.
He knew that the reason it never happened must have been because he never gave anyone a reason.
.
Then he wondered what it was he did so differently.
.
(He wouldn't know, wouldn't even suspect the real reason until much, much later, when his father would be unreachable, his brother in another land, when the realm of Asgard would be falling right into his hands, his world a shattered mess.)
So Loki tried.
He started small. A touch here, a hand on Thor’s shoulder as he went through a necessary explanation, both hands holding the God of Thunder back from doing something rash and ridiculous, taking his mother's hand when he reassured her that Thor and he would be fine travelling into the forests for a few weeks as they'd have the warrior's three and Sif by their side.
Loki didn't try to analyse the small jolts of pleasure he felt whenever he got away with it, and instead wondered if he'd not been doing enough of it to begin with.
(He tried to touch Sif's arm once, but the moment his hand made contact with her skin she jerked away. The action was unconscious, and Loki was too well-practiced to let any disappointment show.)
Yet even after a long time, so long that Loki had learnt every subtle influence a well-timed touch or movement had on another, nothing changed. He had even learnt to practice with his clones, revelled in cataloging the ways which their soft hugs, kisses, strokes and touches made him feel. He experimented on his friends and on others, yet on them it didn't seem to have the same effect.
It wasn’t like his touch burned.
.
Eventually, he hugged Thor.
(Loki hadn't meant for all his experiments to become so centred on his brother, but all this time Thor was the only one who wouldn’t reject his touch.)
But Thor's body remained stiff, his posture awkward, and the moment Loki allowed it Thor softly pushed him away.
.
In the end Loki decided it must just be him.
(which was mostly true)
.
But everything was fine. Loki still had himself.
.
This day marked no changes in the life of any being.
Today Loki sat under a weathered statue on a balcony, far, far away from the feasting hall, hidden in a secret corner of the palace. Head bent forward, Loki read from the book on his lap, engrossed in stories of ancient mysteries and unsolvable paradoxes.
The other would’ve known precisely who he was, and similarly, Loki had no need to conceal himself.
This time Loki relaxed as a pair of arms wrapped itself around his frame. A warm body was pressing to his back, and a head came to rest on his shoulder. Loki sat still for a quiet moment, adjusting to the new warmth, before he leaned back in the other’s arms, and rested his head in the crook of the familiar intruder's neck.
This person would never shy away from Loki.
As the trickster turned his head the other shifted and hugged him closer, and Loki saw a young man, staring at him with warm, gentle eyes. He had black hair and a crooked grin, his expression soft and amused.
Loki let himself melt completely into the man's arms, it was nice here.
"Why do I keep doing this?" he asked, mildly curious.
The other shrugged simply, green eyes slipping closed as his lips softly caressed Loki's neck. "You felt like you needed it."
Silently, Loki stared up at the starlit sky, and when the stars were gone he turned his attention back to the book. Yet for some strange reason he couldn't focus. His eyes were stinging, and his body trembled for reasons he was not entirely sure.
He thought for a moment, turned his head, and placed a soft kiss on the cheek of his other self.
There were voices coming from far away. But Loki didn't want to leave.
Loki let himself wrap his arms around Loki's body, and together, they read on.
Mini-sequel
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 1,250
Featuring: Loki
Genre: Angst
Warnings: None
Notes: Unbeta-ed. This was originally a fill I wrote for this norsekink prompt which was suprisingly well-received. So I've gone through the story again and gave it a little more substance and polish. Original (horrible and unedited draft) is here for those interested. Stealthily de-anoning here in my journal.
Last Edit: 21 Apr 2013
Prompt: So usually the citizans of Asgard are as free with their casual touch and affection as they are with food and drink and sport, but no one touches Loki if it can at all be avoided. (i dunno, maybe they subconciously recognize that he is something other?).
Loki, as desperate for affection as any other person, turns to his magic. He makes clones of everyone he loves and uses the clones to give him everything he's ever wanted from them; a hug, a kiss, a "well done!", cuddles, everything he's always been denied. (please no sexing of the clones).
Would prefer it to eventually be brought into the light what he's been doing, and the reactions of those he's cloned.
(Note. I haven't followed the prompt exactly, belated apologies to anon.)
In the beginning Loki didn’t realise what it was that he had been missing.
No.
That's not entirely true.
In the very beginning Loki didn't think he was missing anything at all.
.
Loki lived life, and he went through the motions of each day with devotion. While he found no enjoyment in competitions of physical prowess, he made his own fun with words and magic (and lies and deception), which earned him a title and reputation which he would occasionally carry with pride.
Though the fun was fleeting and his pleasure would always fade, those were facts which Loki did not mind as knew that he was capable of creating more. Though he never knew the feeling of constant happiness, it was the element of life he understood to be unavoidable, and Loki found reassurance in the knowledge that true happiness is rare.
He learned to be content, and he made sure it would be enough.
So when Loki watched Volstagg envelop Hogun in a giant hug, or Sif place an affectionate kiss on Thor's cheek, he never gave their actions a second thought. Such things were merely part of the Asgardian culture, and Loki never had the reason to think he was missing out on anything truly substantial.
If asked, Loki would reveal his knowledge that these declarations of affection were surely, truly both overrated and unnecessary, for even though it was something he had never been a part of, Loki was still perfectly happy, content with his life.
No, in the very beginning Loki didn't think he was missing anything at all.
.
Everything changed, however, on a chilly Autumn day.
On that day, Loki sat under a tree in a garden far far away from the palace, hidden in a quiet corner of Asgard. Head bent forward, Loki read from the book on his lap, engrossed in stories of ancient mysteries and unsolvable paradoxes.
The girl could not have known who he was, and similarly, Loki never did learn her identity.
Loki started as a pair of arms wrapped itself around his frame. Suddenly there was a small body pressing against his back, and a head resting on his shoulder. Strangely overwhelmed by the warmth pressed against him, for a long time Loki sat still, uncertain, before he turned his head to examine the intruder.
As Loki turned his head, the other moved away, and the trickster saw a young girl, staring at him with clear, eager eyes. She had tawny hair and a crooked grin, her expression open and happy.
The places where her body had touched his felt strangely cold.
"Why did you do that?" he asked, bewilderment clear in his tone.
The little girl shrugged simply. "You looked like you needed it."
Loki stared silently as the little girl turned and ran away, and when she was gone he bowed his head, and turned his attention back to the book. Yet for some reason he couldn't focus. His eyes were stinging, and his body trembled for reasons he was not entirely sure about.
There were voices coming from far away. It was probably time for him to leave.
Loki resisted the sudden urge to wrap his arms around himself, and walked home alone.
.
For a long time afterwards, Loki started to notice.
The way Volstagg would greet Hogun and Fandral with a wide, enveloping hug.
The way Odin would wrap his arm tenderly around Frigga's shoulders in the more private of moments.
The way Thor would chase and tackle Sif, picking her up and spinning her around and around until she squealed.
Loki noticed none of this ever happened to him.
.
He knew that the reason it never happened must have been because he never gave anyone a reason.
.
Then he wondered what it was he did so differently.
.
(He wouldn't know, wouldn't even suspect the real reason until much, much later, when his father would be unreachable, his brother in another land, when the realm of Asgard would be falling right into his hands, his world a shattered mess.)
So Loki tried.
He started small. A touch here, a hand on Thor’s shoulder as he went through a necessary explanation, both hands holding the God of Thunder back from doing something rash and ridiculous, taking his mother's hand when he reassured her that Thor and he would be fine travelling into the forests for a few weeks as they'd have the warrior's three and Sif by their side.
Loki didn't try to analyse the small jolts of pleasure he felt whenever he got away with it, and instead wondered if he'd not been doing enough of it to begin with.
(He tried to touch Sif's arm once, but the moment his hand made contact with her skin she jerked away. The action was unconscious, and Loki was too well-practiced to let any disappointment show.)
Yet even after a long time, so long that Loki had learnt every subtle influence a well-timed touch or movement had on another, nothing changed. He had even learnt to practice with his clones, revelled in cataloging the ways which their soft hugs, kisses, strokes and touches made him feel. He experimented on his friends and on others, yet on them it didn't seem to have the same effect.
It wasn’t like his touch burned.
.
Eventually, he hugged Thor.
(Loki hadn't meant for all his experiments to become so centred on his brother, but all this time Thor was the only one who wouldn’t reject his touch.)
But Thor's body remained stiff, his posture awkward, and the moment Loki allowed it Thor softly pushed him away.
.
In the end Loki decided it must just be him.
(which was mostly true)
.
But everything was fine. Loki still had himself.
.
This day marked no changes in the life of any being.
Today Loki sat under a weathered statue on a balcony, far, far away from the feasting hall, hidden in a secret corner of the palace. Head bent forward, Loki read from the book on his lap, engrossed in stories of ancient mysteries and unsolvable paradoxes.
The other would’ve known precisely who he was, and similarly, Loki had no need to conceal himself.
This time Loki relaxed as a pair of arms wrapped itself around his frame. A warm body was pressing to his back, and a head came to rest on his shoulder. Loki sat still for a quiet moment, adjusting to the new warmth, before he leaned back in the other’s arms, and rested his head in the crook of the familiar intruder's neck.
This person would never shy away from Loki.
As the trickster turned his head the other shifted and hugged him closer, and Loki saw a young man, staring at him with warm, gentle eyes. He had black hair and a crooked grin, his expression soft and amused.
Loki let himself melt completely into the man's arms, it was nice here.
"Why do I keep doing this?" he asked, mildly curious.
The other shrugged simply, green eyes slipping closed as his lips softly caressed Loki's neck. "You felt like you needed it."
Silently, Loki stared up at the starlit sky, and when the stars were gone he turned his attention back to the book. Yet for some strange reason he couldn't focus. His eyes were stinging, and his body trembled for reasons he was not entirely sure.
He thought for a moment, turned his head, and placed a soft kiss on the cheek of his other self.
There were voices coming from far away. But Loki didn't want to leave.
Loki let himself wrap his arms around Loki's body, and together, they read on.
Mini-sequel